


How To Fix A Broken Angel

by xX_Krystal_Rose_Xx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Balthazar, Angry Gabriel, Cause I Didn't Want To Use An Angel They Already Have, Hurt Castiel, I Don't Even Know, I Made A New Bad Guy, Just Give It A Go, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Shipper!Sam, Very Angry Winchesters, please?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xX_Krystal_Rose_Xx/pseuds/xX_Krystal_Rose_Xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has always hated his wings. They were black, ugly, small and nothing special. Compared with his siblings there was just no hope for him at all.<br/>He was the prime example of an Angel who will never be worthy enough to mate with another.<br/>An angel once offered to fix them for him, make them pure and beautiful, but instead left him broken, alone and confused.<br/>How will he ever be able to let someone near them again, even someone as pure of heart and soul as Dean Winchester?</p>
<p>Okay, I suck at summaries, but give me a chance?<br/>Trigger warning for rape in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heaven Is A Place On Earth

 

"I'll be back in a minute okay Cas?"

The man exited the black 1967 Chevy Impala and turned to stare at his accompanying passenger with earthly green coloured eyes.

"Might be best if I go get the shopping this time? Think Sammy would like to eat some proper food for once, since you can't cook porn mags." he said to the person beside him, with a slight amusement etched on his face, the corners of his mouth twitching in a suppressed smile.

Castiel looked to Dean from the passenger side of the Impala, and nodded in agreement.

It was true. He was not, in Sam's words, an  _'efficient shopper'_. All his efforts usually amounted to was half a dozen cracked eggs, some strange, foreign produce that no human 'in their right mind' ever bought, and a handful of Busty Asian Beauties magazines, which were sometimes more than one of the same issue.  
And that was on the better days where he was not scaring the other shoppers with his intimidating voice, and aggressive demands of pie for Dean. After all, on no condition was he to forget the pie.

But he did try his best for the Winchesters, helping them the best he could when they were too busy to get things themselves, or resting after a long hunt.  
That did mean trying his hand at shopping once in a while.

Not that Castiel himself was never busy, but there had been an unusually long period of calm in both Heaven and Earth, meaning he lived with the brothers in their temporary home now, only returning to Heaven when he was called upon.

That being... Never very often.

His siblings seemed to think they were losing him to the brothers. That he was getting too close and far too attached. He had assured them it was not the case, just a byproduct of being around humans.

Nevertheless, he did find it quite enjoyable living with the two brothers.

He enjoyed hunting with the brothers, helping them where they would have taken twice as long in the past, and hearing their praise for doing so.

He enjoyed the late nights in the back of the impala looking out at the stars. The very same stars he had seen the birth, and death of.

He was fond of the way Dean would play his tapes and hum softly along to them, risking a protective glance now and then to his brother who was dozing in the passenger seat. How he would timidly ask questions about Castiel's life, what he had seen and what was it like, things he would never do had Sam been awake.

* * *

"So, uh... Cas, I was reading a book those vamps had in their freakin castle library earlier, musta been centuries old, cause im pretty sure i seen some Enochian in there. It was about uh... angels and things. I was just wondering... What type of Angel are you? Cause, man, there's a lot of types."

He had asked one night after clearing out a nest of vampires. Castiel had frowned slightly, having never expecting a question like that from Dean.

"Which type do you think I am?" He asked, curious.

"I dunno man, you're pretty bad-ass, you could be an Archangel for all I know." Dean cleared his throat awkwardly at the compliment and averted his eyes.  
Castiel has simply chuckled, looking out to the stars once more.

"I am a Seraphim." he concluded.

Dean nodded, smiling slightly. He knew himself that Cas had to be one of the most powerful classes.

"It said in something in the books about 'Angels that stand in the direct presence of God'. But you said you've never seen God, right?"

Dean had searched him questioningly, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Yes, it is true. A Seraph's position is to circle Our Lord in protection and unyielding love. But I have not done so, as God was missing when my position was altered."

"And your wings?"

"I have six wings, using one pair to fly, another pair to cover my eyes as a token of humility, and the last pair to cover my feet as a token of respect."  
Dean didn't notice the slight lowering in the Angel's voice as the topic of his wings came up.

"An Angel's wings are fierce, but also the most protected part of all. They are the point of pride for all Angels, and are used dually in battle, but also when attracting a mate."

Dean's eyes had widened at the mention of taking a mate. Obviously, that part was not in the book.

"If an Angel's wings are considered undesirable, they will never be a worthy mate."

Dean was left silently cursing as Castiel left the back seat abruptly.

* * *

On the times they weren't hunting, Sam was almost always doing research on his laptop, or he would go out for runs or trips to the nearest bar.

So it was normally just himself and Dean left to entertain themselves. Dean's idea of entertainment, however, was generally a night filled with sharing beers whilst observing attractive women dancing with barely any clothing on.

This night in particular, there were multiple women, appearing to represent some kind of sexual version of stereotypical Angels.

The one closest to Dean wore a sparkling silver corset with a light blue lace trim lining the bust, and a short blue tutu. She had light blue opaque knee-height socks, and a small pair of wings with fluffy silver feathers and glitter, with a matching silver halo. Up close she had piercing blue eyes, and black, curly locks that bounced as she danced.

"These wings are entirely impractical." He had said to Dean, confusion in his voice and expression.

"My wings are much larger in size. These would not be capable of flight."

Dean had appeared particularly uncomfortable at the display, and suggested they return surprisingly early, at around eight PM.  
Dean had then announced he needed to turn in early and promptly headed to bed.

He awoke no more than two hours later, from a nightmare.  
Of course, Dean never told him that, nor would he, but Castiel did not think it was a normal thing for humans to toss and turn and mutter quietly in fear while they slept.  
Dean had asked him many times not to listen to or watch him sleeping, however, it was turning out to be a somewhat difficult task. He was a much louder sleeper than Sam, and the dreams Dean experienced were never pleasant.

They we're sometimes about failing his Dad, somehow proving to him that he was unreliable, worthless, the perfect soldier but no better. Always the second best, never quite good enough.

Other times about loosing Sam. Failing to protect him, to save his little brother Sammy from the danger he felt he was always putting him in.

More recently, and rather surprising to Castiel, Dean would dream of him too. The elder hunter's fear of loosing the brooding angel he had unintentionally grown to care for was overwhelming in those dreams, and so was the feeling of abandonment and worry that consumed him when Castiel was absent. He felt responsible for Castiel, felt the guilt eat away at him because of all the Angel had gave up for them.

Castiel wanted to ask Dean about the dreams, assure Dean that choosing him was the best decision he felt he had ever made, and he was a more than worthy reason for angles to fall, much to the hunters predictable embarrassment, discomfort and his 'no chick flick moments' rule.

But he left Dean to his preferred method of feeling guilty over things that were not his fault, and dealing with it himself.

Because, in the end, Castiel would always give Dean what he wanted. No matter his own feelings.

The hunter had announced when he awoke that he was hungry, only to angrily discover no food had been purchased in the last couple of days.  
Cussing and blasphemy had ensued, with Dean grumbling to Cas about him going to jump in a quick shower and get dressed, and mumbled something about ' _his highness'_  coming with him as they hadn't been out properly for a while.

"I'll leave the radio on for you buddy, so you don't get bored." he said, leaning over and pressing one of the large buttons he had made the angel promise not to touch.

"Not that you would," he added absently, "but still."

"Thank you, Dean" he nodded in his direction, beginning to listen to the radio DJ announce the winners of some sort of competition to win tickets to something.

"'S fine." Dean placed his hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket, turned on his heel, and marched towards the large grocery store.

Castiel tuned into the radio, listening intently. It was always pleasing to have an opportunity to learn more about humans and their norms. Through Dean's gruff but caring guidance, he was getting a considerable amount better at handling social situations and normal human protocols.

"Megan Smith has sent in a request for 'Heaven Is A Place On Earth', by Belinda Carlisle! I'll get that on for you right away!" the enthusiastic voice of the DJ was transmitted through the speakers.

Castiel's eyebrows raised at the mention of the song title. It was perplexing, to say the least. Heaven did not exist on Earth...

The song was definitely not something Dean had let him listen to on the long country drives in the Impala.

The Angel's confusion was intensified by the happy, upbeat tune starting, accompanied by the lyrics;

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

_They say in heaven love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

This was nothing like AC-DC or Metallica, things considered  _'good, real music'._

He decided that this woman, this singer, was extremely misinformed about his now part-time residence.  
Castiel was incredulous.  
Why in the Lords name would she possibly want to make heaven a part of the Earth? It could destroy them both simultaneously.

_When you walk into the room_

_You pull me close and we start to move_

_And we're spinning with the stars above_

_And you lift me up in a wave of love..._

There was nothing particularly confusing about the next lines. They talked of love, an unusual notion to the angel, as it was an entirely human emotion, and embracing one another.  
Although, from people describing love to him, which Sam had, after Castiel had asked him multiple times (he would have asked Dean however, it appeared he was not the best one for answering Castiel's inquiries), it was not a physical wave capable of lifting someone.  
Sam had told him that love felt like butterflies in his chest whenever that special person was near, and the feeling of wanting to be near them or close to them all the time. The urge to protect them and everything they cared about. Love was sharing an extremely powerful bond with someone, so powerful you would risk anything, do anything, to help or save them.

Sam had looked at him in such a way, his eyebrows raised in expectation, that Castiel thought he might have been trying to tell him something else.

He had simply frowned in confusion and left Sam in the library.

He was unsure what to make of this couple spinning with distant stars. Had he been wrong in thinking humans could not withstand the temperature of the stars?

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

_They say in heaven love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

The strange lines were repeated, doing nothing to help Castiel's understanding of the statements made.  
Angels could not feel love in Heaven. The only way for an Angel to feel love of any romantic kind, as he guessed that was the kind the song was referring to, would be to seek it elsewhere.  
To fall.  
Pleasing, following and fighting for their Father had always been the first and foremost for his existence in heaven.

_When I feel alone_

_I reach for you_

_And you bring me home_

_When I'm lost at sea_

_I hear your voice_

_And it carries me_

This was strange indeed. Could he have possibly underestimated the power of the human voice, also? He was unaware it had the power to move another and place them elsewhere.  
Perhaps only some humans were capable of it? As he was fairly certain neither Dean nor Sam possessed this ability.

_In this world we're just beginning_

_To understand the miracle of living_

_Baby I was afraid before_

_But I'm not afraid anymore_

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

_They say in heaven love comes first_

_We'll make heaven a place on earth_

_Ooh heaven is a place on earth_

He wondered who had said love was the most prominent thing in Heaven. Was it the same fool who had speculated that Heaven was in the clouds, and the sole purpose of the angels was to be guardians of humanity?

Angels are the warriors of God. They are fierce opponents in battle and can out-match almost  _any_  creature, supernatural or ordinary. Their creation was to defend their Father, His home, and all His creations, not just humanity. If that meant the lives of innocents were lost, then it was a necessary sacrifice.

Castiel pondered this for around fifteen minutes, before deciding he would ask Dean upon his local news had started, and the angel was grateful for the break from confusing human emotions and norms.

Dean returned promptly, his arms filled with numerous bags containing things that looked more edible than what Castiel would have produced on his own. He put the plastic bags in the back of the car, walking around to get into the drivers seat.

"Hey Cas." He grunted, acknowledging him with a small nod.

"Hello Dean" the angel replied, returning his nod politely.

* * *

"Dean?" he questioned eventually, when they were about ten minutes into the approximated forty-five minute long journey home.  
The radio had been switched off, as Dean was both hungry and tired, with an accompanied headache, a combination the angel knew from experience, left him irritable and prone to snapping, so he preferred silence.  
Usually, given Deans current mood, Castiel would have waited until they returned home, and Dean was rested and fed, however, he felt his questions were in dire need of answers.

"How powerful is the human voice?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing, still as confused as he had been when he first heard the song.

Dean eyed him curiously from his seat behind the wheel.

"What kinda question is that Cas? You're an Angel, can't you figure it out?"

"I have had an... Undermining of my knowledge of the human race." he admitted quietly.

"Wha-? Jesus Cas, you didn't talk to some poor bastard in the parking lot, did you?" He glanced at him to check his reaction. He frowned.

"No Dean." he shook his head softly, choosing to ignore Dean's usual blasphemy.

"But I believe a woman named Belinda Carlisle may be responsible. She has stated that humans are able to carry each other through voice alone, are able to rotate with stars, and that Heaven is a place on Earth."

Castiel had barely got through his sentence when Dean burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Dude!" he said in amongst gasps for air and a small, light tear falling from his eyes from laughing too hard.

"She's a singer, you know that right?" He grinned, his jaw and stomach hurting from his hysterics.

"I am aware of the term, yes."

He sighed, shaking the last of the laughter away.

_What was it with this angel always reducing him to hysterics?_  
Whether it was reminding prostitutes right before sex that their father was a deadbeat, the way sarcasm, humour, and digs slipped completely over his head, or just his general clueless questions about humanity and Earth.

"Dean..." Cas looked at him earnestly. His face was suddenly very close to Dean's, so he could smell the faint scent of his skin, feel the angel breathing on his cheek.  
"Why do humans wish love to be the most prominent thing in Heaven?"

Dean shuddered at the feel of Castiel's breath tickling the hairs on his neck, and inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring.

"I dunno Cas" he looked at him briefly, and stared into his pale blue eyes, before deciding the road was more important.

"Everybody likes to think of Heaven as a nice cloudy, pearly white place, full of love and happiness. They like thinking that you have a halo and you wear pretty much nothing except a silky towel-thing, that you do nothing except play the harp all day, sitting on the clouds watching humanity, fluttering your nice, soft, fluffy white wings." he scoffed slightly, wondering idly what Cas's wings actually look like.

"While I do find the sound of a harp pleasing, I do not play any musical instrument." he was being deadly serious, making Dean want to laugh again.

"My wings have feathers, so they are usually soft. Although 'nice' would be a description somewhat disputed among my peers." Castiel frowned, flexing his shoulders and no doubt his hidden wings.

"Cas-?"

"But you never answered my question." he interrupted hastily, seeming to avoid the anticipated question about his wings.  
They seemed like a sensitive subject, and Dean had never seen Castiel's face look so worried before.  
Carefully hidden, of course, but the light panic in his usual monotonous voice was evident, and he could hear the nervous rustling of feathers behind him.  
Dean decided not to push the issue, especially as Cas was so close he could probably knock his head right through the window of the Impala if he upset him.

"People like the idea of being in love, I guess. Like to think having someone to go home to at the end of a hard days work is the best feeling in the world." he answered honestly.

The angel seemed to deem the answer good enough, and relaxed back into the seat of Dean's baby.

He silently hoped he had gotten away without any further discussions of love because,  _hell_ , Sammy had already lectured him enough before Cas started living with them.

_'Trust you Dean. The_  one _person you fall head over heels in love with, and it's a freakin' angel!'_

Dean frowned at the memory of Sammy's words, his face darkening slightly at the notion.

_He was not in love with the damned angel!_

 

Cas was- Cas was a friend.

Someone who was always there for him when he needed it, someone who somehow knew exactly what to say to make him laugh or smile. Someone who just always seemed to know what was up, without even having opened his mouth. Someone who would always protect him, even if the cost was his own life.

_No. He was not in love._  
  
"But you do not believe that." the angel beside him commented, bringing him back to the present.

_Curse this damned angel and his ability to see right through him._  
  
"I'm not in-!" he began, before realising Cas was talking about his statement, not what Sam had said.

"Uhh, well... Theres no point in it." He added hastily.

"What's the matter?" he said, mirroring the first time they met, leaning forward in his seat to catch his eye, tilting his head and raising his furrowed eyebrows endearingly. "You don't think you deserve to be loved?"

Dean drew in a breath and held it, switching the tape on as loud as it would go, headache be damned, letting Led Zeppelin's 'Traveling Riverside Blues' drown out everything else from his mind.

* * *

The temporary home was looming into view, and they were almost there. Dean didn't answer for a long time, not until the car was parked outside in the driveway.  
He turned the volume down, before switching it fully off.  
He sat in silence for a further five minutes, feeling Castiel's eyes resting on him.

"They don't deserve to go through that. What I would put them through, I mean. Cas, I'm broken. And my soul is damaged beyond even your ability to fix. I'm no good for anybody. I ain't perfect, and I'm just gonna cause them more hurt."

He looked Castiel dead in the eye, hazel-green meeting a shining azure, before exiting the car to receive the groceries.  
Castiel was gone when he looked up. The hunter guessed he was probably poofed back in Dean's room, so the lazy son-of-a-bitch didn't need to help put away the shopping.

Maybe it was for the best.

Dean had answered feathery-asses questions as honestly as he could, so maybe this time Cas owed him a little clarity of his own.

 

 

 


	2. Angel Of Mine

Sam was, as expected, still sleeping when Dean came in to put the shopping away, and he wasn't quite cruel enough to wake him up shouting on Cas to get his ass back down and help him.

Dean was pretty grateful for whatever rest his little brother managed to get these days.

Besides, he could handle putting food in the fridge on his own.  
He hunted the Supernatural creatures of nightmares and legends, damn it, he could manage to stock up properly without help.

When he was finally finished putting away the right edible groceries, without the possibility of finding cracked eggs and a porn mag in the fridge, he removed his jacket and shoes, and went up the stairs to the room the hunter and angel now shared.

When they had originally paid for the temporary living space, they had put it down to two rooms, a Winchester in with the queen bed, a Winchester on the couch, and a room for a trenchcoated angel downstairs, if he wanted to be alone.

Cas had gone along with them, only to state ten minutes later that Sam should have his room, because he didn't see the point since he wouldn't sleep. With a peculiar grin on his face, Sam readily agreed, although insisted that Cas stayed in Deans room.

Dean gave his brother a bitchface that could rival Lucifer's for going to the trouble.

_"I'm grateful Cas, really, I am. I can have my own space and all. But I can't expect you not to have a room._  
I mean, you're practically family!   
You should stay in Deans room. I'm sure he'd be happy to share with you."

He grumbled, mouthing curses aimed to his sleeping brother downstairs.

He hesitated near the door, wondering whether he should knock it or not. Although, Dean reminded himself, Cas was an angel.

He never got bored by sitting in the same position for hours on end, and he was more than likely just sitting on the corner of the bed, staring into space, thinking about things that all the other Angels might think about.

Except maybe Balthazar and Gabriel.

They just thought of booze and women.

Deciding, to hell with it, he pushed open the door to his- their-  _whatever_ \- room, and walked straight in.

He was greeted by the sight of a very dejected looking, very  _shirtless_ angel, with his coat, suit jacket and shirt folded neatly on a nearby chair. The only item of clothing remaining was his pants and socks.   
Cas had only recently begun to start removing his coat and shoes around the house more often, at the urge of Sam and Dean, but he had never removed his shirt.   
The only time Dean had ever seen the bare skin of Castiel, was when he was being tortured by April.

_And having sex,_ his mind supplied  _helpfully_ , mirroring exactly what Dean had nearly choked at when the angel had said it.

Cas was stood in front of the full length mirror, and suddenly began to stumble about in shock at being walked in on. He ran into the bathroom, knocking over numerous bottles of cheap shampoo and items on the dresser.

Dean stood still for a while, mouth open slightly and eyebrows raised in shock, wondering what in the hell Cas could have been doing.

He was an angel. He didn't eat, sleep, shit, get drunk easily, anything.   
He didn't need to get changed, or even undressed.

Then it dawned on him.

_Cas must have been looking at his wings in the mirror._

It was just a guess, but the guy was probably really insecure about them.

I mean, he hadn't wanted to fully answer questions about them, evaded the topic even.

He approached the door gently, knowing that Cas was probably embarrassed about it.

Dean knew he'd be damn embarrassed if Cas had walked in on him examining his lower half.

Sure, not the same thing, but both pretty personal.

Then again Cas probably wouldn't mind, he  _had_ pieced his entire body back together and patched him up with his own Grace. Surely that meant- And,  _wow,_ okay.  
 _So not even_ going  _there._

Being careful not to step on one of the numerous bottles the angel had strewn over the floor, he walked over to the door and gave it a few quiet knocks.

"Cas?" He questioned, hesitation in his voice.

"D-dean. I did not expect you to be back up so soon..." his quiet voice breaking in embarrassment.

Jesus.   
 _Just what the hell did he walk in on?_

"You okay?" He questioned again, concern lacing his deep voice.

"I will be fine. I was just attempting to-" he stopped himself continuing the sentence, still not revealing what he was doing in the middle of the room half naked.

"Hey, uhh, you... Want a t-shirt or something?" He questioned uncertainly after a long period of silence.

"I would... Appreciate that, yes Dean."

"Hold on a sec." he said, backing away to the wardrobe on the other side of the room. He grabbed the nearest t-shirt he could find, which happened to be his favourite AC-DC one.   
Threaded and worn, but still extremely comfortable.

He returned promptly to the door, after completing the obstacle course of shampoo and toiletries, opening it a crack.

"I'm coming in Cas" he said simply, widening the door.

"Dean..." Castiel tried to protest, warn him off, however found it too late as Dean was already in the room with the door closed behind him.

"You shouldn't be-"

"Screw the privacy Cas! It's not like you've never mo-jo'd in while I was in the damn shower!" Dean raised his voice, although he wasn't angry with him.

"I apologised already for that incident Dean. This is... A little different." he said quietly, tracing cracks on the tiled floor with his eyes.

"Were you looking at your wings?" he blurted out, unable to take the gentle avoidance of why an angel had stripped himself, and stood in the middle of his room looking in the mirror.

"No." he sighed "I was attempting to..." he looked to Dean, hoping silently he wouldn't have to continue with the sentence.

By the look present on Dean's face, that wasn't an option.

"I was trying to groom them." he said finally, eyes darting back to the floor.

"Why's that bad?" Dean prompted gently.

"It is a delicate act... I cannot fully reach them..." he sighed again, deciding he may as well inform Dean of the procedures. He was hardly expected to know.

"Wing grooming is normally performed by a trusted companion, such as another garrison member or close sibling. This is eventually considered too intimate for a brother or sister to do, and as such, it is normally performed by a mate after the angel reaches a certain age."

Dean couldn't say anything, the words taken from him, instead voicing a shocked 'oh'.

In the beginning, he hadn't really given Castiel's wings much thought.

He knew now that he had six, but he had only thought they were shadows in this world, mere illusions, not real, and certainly not physically there.

He scanned behind Castiel absently, a slight tinge of disappointment that he quickly crushed when he saw there was nothing there.

"As I'm sure you are already aware, given our previous outing to where we met Chastity-"

"-The girl with the post-officer dad?" he interjected, grinning slightly.

"Yes." he frowned, still not seeming to realise what he said would likely anger her, rather than console her.

"But, as you are no doubt aware, I have never willingly mated, or taken a mate before.   
Of course, there was April." He frowned slightly before continuing,  
"However, mating is different to standard intercourse, as my wings were not involved."

"So... You've never had anyone touch your wings before?" Dean couldn't help the small, amused smile forming on his lips.

So in that aspect, he gathered Cas was still a major virgin.

No one had even touched the guy like that before.

"N-no... Never." he answered quietly, averting his eyes quickly.

"They are becoming unbearably uncomfortable... Due to constantly keeping them folded in an unnatural position to avoid disrupting nearby objects, and with no-one to groom them-"

"-Would you like someone to?" Dean couldn't believe he was saying it.

Maybe it was something to do with the heart-breakingly solemn expression on his friends face.

"W-would I what? Dean, you have to understand what y-you're-" he stuttered, eyes widened, a small red blush spreading across his cheeks.

Dean, of course, was fully aware of what he was doing. He rather enjoyed making the angel squirm in embarrassment.

_It's not like it happened that often._

And, of course, he gathered that asking to touch his wings was, in an odd way, slightly propositioning him.

"I don't mind doing it." he stated, both in surprise admittance to himself, and to inform Castiel that he could fix them for him, if he wanted.

"D-dean, what you're saying..."

"Hey man, if it's making you feel uncomfortable, I could do it for you."

He was waiting to see if Castiel would admit that it would probably cause him some pleasure to have someone else touch them. Given that it was too intimate for a sibling now, and that he had never shown them to anyone before, save in battle, it would probably be pleasurable to have it done.

_'Like an intense massage.'_  he thought with amusement  _'On feathers.'_

"I do not want to create awkwardness between us, as I'm sure this-"

" _Cas_. You've seen me in a shower.  _Completely naked_. And you didn't even look away for like ten minutes. I nearly broke my ankle reaching for the towel-" he said bluntly.

"I would never have let any injury befall you in my presence Dean." he huffed, looking offended.

"-If it was ever going to be awkward," he ignored Castiel's comment, not bothering to explain he wouldn't have broke his ankle anyway and it was just an expression, "then that would be when it started."

Castiel was silent for a long time, seemingly having an inner debate whether to take him up on his offer.

"Alright Dean, if you truly are comfortable with it?" he questioned eventually, worry in his voice.

"Course I am!" he grabbed the angels arm, ignoring the feel of his bare skin, and hauled him up from the floor.

"Might need to go into the bedroom though, its bigger. I imagine your wings are kinda big."

"My sibling's are larger." he said simply, dejected.

Castiel sat down on the edge of the bed, folding one leg and letting the other dangle off the side. He placed his hands nervously in his lap, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.   
Dean stood a little way off, picking up the bottles from the floor, only to almost drop them again when he looked up at the sound of the air 'whooshing'.

Before him sat Castiel, _Angel of the Lord_ , looking to the his left, and unable to look Dean in the eyes, a slight tinge of red along his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose.

He looked upset and expectant, as if Dean was going to reject him for not being pretty enough.

Absurd, really, but it hurt Dean to see just how little Castiel thought of himself.

Two huge wings were protruding from his shoulder blades, like the wings of an enormous great bird, filling up the entire room.

He unfurls them slowly, nervously, until he's fully extended them and gave them a soft flutter, causing a couple of feathers to fall.

Dean looked closely at them, his eyes widening in wonder and awe, mouth agape.

They had a sleek, satin-like effect, and appeared to have a soft looking sparkling powder of some sort coating them.

But what took Dean's breath away was the  _colours_ of the wings.  _God,_ the  _colours!_

A dark black, like the midnight sky on a crisp, clear night. Pure white light was spotted randomly around his wings, glowing bright, throwing off blue light that shone around it like a kind of gas. Some of the little lights were molten-gold, turning the surrounding feathers a sparkling bronze. There had to be millions of them, all scattered like diamond dust, tossing light to the far corners of the dimly light room.

There were some little clusters of the light grouped together shining just like-  _Exactly_  like-  _stars._

_Holy shit._

_"Cas..."._ He breathed.   
In any other situation, he would be embarrassed to be rendered unable to speak from viewing  _wings,_ of all things.   
But these were- had to be- one of the most beautiful things he had  _ever_ seen.

The pattern, if you could even call it that, was like looking into a swirling galaxy full of stars, like the ones he had seen on the space documentaries when nothing else was on the T.V at 3AM.

Cas was right though, they didn't look groomed. They were no where near it.

Some feathers were were stained a dark red, splashed over the stars and reflecting reflecting red into their glow.

It was blood, beyond a doubt. The troubling matter, though, was whether it was the blood of others he fought against, or his own.

Dean shuddered at the image of the Angel's wings being injured, or even just touched by another.

All the feathers nearer to Castiel's body were ruffled up and uneven, sticking out at awkward angles. The bigger feathers lower down his wings were frayed, curling and knotting in amongst other ones.

But all that just made them all the more perfect to Dean.

It was just plain  _Cas_.

They matched his messy hair, crumpled coat and imperfect tie, and his inability to fix them.

Castiel, noticing how long Dean had been staring basically wordlessly at them, seemed to be resisting the urge to curl them behind himself.

They were quivering slightly, as if the wings themselves were nervous and jumpy.

He set the objects down on the table, completely unable to tear his eyes away from the breathtaking wings.

His eyes eventually found Castiel's, a shining sapphire meeting widened emerald green eyes.

"These are not the wings of a desirable angel Dean. They are undeserving of your eyes and your touch. With a soul such as yours..." he sighed, discontent, stopping his sentence in fear of making Dean uncomfortable.

"What fully functional angel would consider these above others?" he gestured to his wings.

"They are far from white. Not even cream. And they are definitely not fully bronze or gold. They are disgustingly black. All angels have lightly coloured wings, in pale shades of shining cream or peach, or bright warm golds and coppers, reflecting their Grace.   
Gabriel's wings shine a bright gold, reflecting vivid oranges and yellows in the light. They are one of the most desirable pair of wings in all of Heaven.   
Balthazar's are unusually unique, but still desirable. They shine like clear crystal, reflecting all the colours of the rainbow.   
Mine are just so... so-"

"Beautiful." Dean interjected, not thinking of the consequences before the word sprang from his mouth.

Castiel's wings jerked up from where they were curling subconsciously around him, cocooning him in a soft, protective embrace.

Dean had quickly noted they had the same gorgeous pattern of stars scattered across the back of his wings too.

"They're what?"

"Jesus  _Christ-_ They're so beautiful, Cas." Dean moved to sit on the bed beside him and reached out gently touch them, only to have them flutter away nervously, still shaking lightly.

"Cas..." he breathed, almost beginning to understand now how delicate the situation was for the broken angel.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I would never..." he paused, noticing deep gashes and cuts that he couldn't see standing so far away, with the shining stars covering it.

He couldn't help his hands clenching tight into fists.

"But somebody did, didn't they?"

"I never said-"

"I can see it Cas. I can see what that son-of-a-bitch did to your wings." Castiel started to panic slightly, not realising the scars were still so visible. He felt ashamed, thinking again about how much of a disgrace his wings were.

There was a long pause that seemed endless.

"He was going to fix me..." he admitted quietly, looking away from Dean in shame.

He thought back to that night.   
The angel with the shining bronze wings and and charming mannerisms, the smell of hard liquor on a breath far too close to his face.   
The stinging feel of another's stubble rubbed against his cheek as empty promises were whispered in his ear, and the strength of ever present hands pressed against his arms and waist with vice-like precision.  
The loud, drunken promises of a way to make him better again.   
Cure him.   
To make him just as beautiful as he was.

The violence of his touches and the sound of his clothes being pulled from him in a drunken haste.   
How the rope burned his wrists as he tried desperately to free himself from the seedy old motel bed.

The way his cries of pain fell upon deaf ears as the older angel repeatedly slammed into him again and again, with no preparation or mercy, and trying not to choke on the salty pang of his own tears.

The pungent smell of his feathers being burned with holy fire and and the pain of an angel blade ripping through sensitive wings and rough hands breaking their bones.

"Damn it Cas! Nothing was broken! There's nothing wrong with you!" Dean shouted, turning, accentuating his words by aggressively knocking over all the shampoo and toiletries he had just carefully replaced.

Castiel wasn't intimidated, he had seen Dean like this before.

"You're so damn unique, Cas! Your wings are stunning! I don't know what I expected, but it sure as hell wasn't something as amazing as that! God, your wings they... They look like shining stars and far away galaxies, like I'm staring straight into the heart of the damned Universe, and I'd take that any day over plain old white!  
That bastard had absolutely no fucking right touching you like that! And if I ever see him... I'll take a knife, cut both his hands off, and then I'll stick it right between his fucking eyes for ever even having the privilege of seeing them."

Castiel was stunned by the passion in Dean's voice. He was being extremely protective, using the same tone as he did when Sam was in danger or his life was being threatened.

"Dean... I apologise."

"You... What!?"

After everything that had happened to the guy, he was the one apologising?

"I should never have put you in such a position." he said simply, unfolding his legs and standing up.

"No, you are  _not_ leaving Cas. Not until I show you what this is supposed to be like." he put one hand on the angels scarred chest, pushing him down again lightly.

"What did he use to do this?" he asked, barely a whisper, looking at his wings as if they were a sacred treasure to be cherished.

No-one had ever looked at them like that.

"My Angel Blade."

"He used your own weapon against you?"

He only nodded, unable to speak. It made Dean sick. He could never, _ever,_ even _think_ of doing something that low and disgusting to Sammy.  
Again, Dean reached out to touch the wings, to have them flutter away again, although considerably less than the last time.

He pulled the angel into a tight embrace, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Cas, I would never hurt you. I want you to know what it's really like to have someone do it properly. How it feels when they- When they really mean it." he breathed gently into the angel's ear, cautious not to accidentally touch his wings by mistake and mess up whatever it was he was slowly fixing. He felt unsure arms placing themselves on his waist, fingers digging in so hard they almost broke skin through his t-shirt.

But if this was what Cas needed to fix himself, or at least let Dean take some of the pain away, then so be it. The broken being in his arms had pretty much just told him that he had been wing-raped by one of his masochist brothers.

The son-of-a-bitch had took advantage of how much Cas clearly hated his wings, and told him some bullshit excuse about 'fixing' them.

"Castiel." Dean's use of the angels full name was uncommon, even in dire situations, ensuring the attention of the being currently digging his short nails into Dean's waist.

"Please" he begged, something Dean Winchester rarely ever did.

"Please just... Trust me. I'll touch them so gently, and I'll take so much care. You're gonna forget everything he ever did to you. I just... _God_..." He struggled, so desperate to convince the Angel to let him help.

"Please just let me help you. If there is one thing on this Earth I can do for you, after all the God-forsaken shit I've put you through or made you do for me, this is it. I need to help you past this, I need to take it all away."

"Dean." he sounded a little choked, as if he couldn't get the sounds out.

"Please. Just..."

His wings moved slowly towards him, now barely shaking.

He looked straight at him, shining deep blue eyes filled with so much loyalty and trust, that in that moment, Dean would have done or given anything for him.

"Be gentle." he gave a weak smile.

This was Castiel the warrior. Castiel, the soldier of God, weighed down and broken by something so utterly human.

"You tell me at any point if it's too much for you, okay?" he smiled, filling it with all his warmth and gratitude at being given the opportunity to do something this huge for the angel.

"Thank you Dean."

He stood up to walk behind him, reluctantly letting him go, but a strong grip around his wrist stopped him.

"If it is not too much to ask, could- could you do it facing me?"

"The angel... he never told me his name, he... forced me into submission from behind. I was bound. I could not see his face..." Cas looked down steadily, shame clouding his expression, bringing his wings down with it.

"Of course I can, Cas. This is about fixing whatever he did to you, I'm not doing it to get my kicks."

The wings perked up again, and Dean almost laughed at how puppy-like he was.

"Go rest on the pillows up there, it'll be easiest that way"

Castiel moved over to the top of the bed, laying down on the surprisingly soft pillows. Dean followed behind him, folding his legs while facing him.

"You ready?" he smiled at him reassuringly.

Castiel nodded, eyes trained on Dean's.

He reached out gingerly, placing an experimental finger on one of the deep black plumes. He felt Castiel shudder at the touch, obviously not used to the sensation. It felt like silk, and heat radiated from where some of the brightest spots of shimmering white. It tingled with an odd, electric like feeling. He placed his hand slowly on one of the ruffled parts of the wing and smoothed it down, smiling at the tiny gasp that escaped Cas's throat.

He continued stroking the ruffled feathers, earning more shocked gasps and small shudders from the angel.

It was another couple of hours before he was done. He had sat in silence smiling at Castiel's blissful reactions to having his wings washed with a warm cloth he received from the bathroom, and Dean taking the time to groom the individual feathers lightly back into place with his fingers.

Cas had gotten more comfortable about Dean touching his wings, and had eventually lay down on his back to give Dean better access to his wings.

He had asked about the dust that coated them halfway through. Castiel had smiled blissfully.

"I have watched this universe for millennia." he said simply "I believe it would be dust from different galaxies and planets."

"Wow, Cas... Are you sure you want me to wash it off?"

"It is... An odd sensation when it gets trapped underneath feathers. It is vaguely uncomfortable."

"It tickles?"

He laughed at Castiel's indignant huff.

"Yes."

He grinned and set about cleaning the remaining space-dust from his wings, discreetly scraping some into a tiny little glass bottle.   
Because, hey,  _space-dust._

"Feel better?" he grinned at him once he was done.

"Dean..." he breathed out, eyelids drooping, head slumped to the side, unable to say anything else.

He grinned.

_He had actually managed to make an Angel of The Lord sleepy._

Although he was now trying to wake himself up, beginning to rise slowly and roll onto his side, tucking his newly groomed wings behind him.

"Dean I..."

"Shhh..." he quietened, attempting to relax him before he started to wake himself up. He placed the angel in his arms, and began to hum softly.

Hell, its not as if he could get any more disgustingly goo-goo eyed and chick-flicky anyway...

_When I first saw you I already knew_

_There was something inside of you_

_Something I thought that I would never find_

_Angel of mine_

 

He sang the words quietly, barely a whisper.

 

_I look at you looking at me_

_Now I know why they say the best things are free_

_Gonna love you boy you are so fine_

_Angel of mine_

 

He vaguely remembered first hearing the song when Sam had the radio on in the car, a compromise with Dean.

 

_How you changed my world you'll never know_

_I'm different now, you helped me grow_

 

He had listened carefully to the words, grudgingly being reminded of the nerdy angel he had grown to care so much for, despite all his efforts not to.

Arms were placed around his waist, the angels head lolled onto his chest as Cas let out a contented sigh.

 

_You came into my life_

_Sent from above_

_When I lost all hope_

_You showed me love_

_I'm checkin' for you_

_Boy you're right on time_

_Angel of mine_

 

His breathing was slowing, becoming even and more relaxed.

Dean reached out again and stroked the strong wing bone absently, running fingers over the closest feathers.

 

_Nothing means more to me than what we share_

_No one in this whole world can ever compare_

_Last night the way you moved is still on my mind_

_Angel of mine_

_What you mean to me you'll never know_

_Deep inside I need to show_

 

He smiled down at Castiel's relaxed and half-asleep form, as he remembers reading something from the third Angel book he had found that week.  
Not that he had been looking for them.  
He just figured they may come in handy. That was all.  
It had to have been around 3000 years old, just about the time angels stopped walking the Earth.

' ** _Angels And Rest:_**

_Angels are not known to sleep often, although it has been passed through rumor that certain places on Earth have been discovered where they will fly to rest and recover._  
This is normally a most private area, which aesthetically pleases the Angel, and somewhere that it feels most safe.  
An Angel will only fall asleep in its chosen 'nest', while close with another, trusted companion, as they are left strikingly vulnerable when resting.   
In doing so, they are putting complete faith and trust within the companion, and heavily rely on them for protection.'

 

_You came into my life_

_Sent from above_

_When I lost all hope..._

 

Dean smiled widely before sleep finally claimed them both, his head falling backwards onto the pillow, fingers still twisted in the sparkling feathers.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I didn't explain well enough, this image: http://static.tumblr.com/0338592e59da723e3ceed17c841d64b9/0xaazot/73zn2eqnr/tumblr_static_stars.jpg  
> Is what I referenced for the wings :)  
> Oh God, I hope that didn't suck too bad for you guys. I'm not a good author so I'm sorry :/  
> Next chapter will probably be difficult to write, so I may be a while. Plus, I suck at updating regularly!  
> Thank you so much for reading, leave a comment if you like, I'd love to hear what you think! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Okay Guys, I hope you liked it haha :)  
> But the next chapter should have a little more angst mixed in, and some shmoppy Dean taking care of Cas (in a probably OOC way, knowing myself :( )  
> Reviews are always extremely appreciated, i LOVE to hear from you guys! :D


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